


Of Thorns and Stars

by manmehakkaur



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-23 10:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manmehakkaur/pseuds/manmehakkaur
Summary: Leia Skywalker belongs from a line of great shadowhunters. The Skywalker family has held prestige among the nephilim for a milennia. Not much of that remains now. With both of her parents gone, and her brother taken up by the ranks of the Scholomance, she finds herself guest to the Blackthorns. in a world far from the one she grew up in, she finds home with a certain young Blackthorn.The shadow world is torn, and so is Leia. Protect whatever is remaining of the Skywalker legacy, or side with the Blackthorns, the very motto of whom is a charge against the ancient institution of the clave and its laws.The law weighs heavy, but so does the love of the Blackthorns. Livia Blackthorn more so than others. Carefree and passionate, Livia starts meaning more to Leia than she ever wanted or foresaw.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where the Skywalkers are shadowhunters, and young Leia Skywalker finds companionship with Livia Blackthorn. Huge thanks to my friend Niamh Wills for inspiring me to write this one. This pairing came up in a 'Rip it or Ship it' game we were playing, and we were both instantly plagued by a thousand headcanons at the mere idea. More notes at the end.

She twirled the ring on forefinger; once, twice, a third time and a fourth. Even in the Shadow world, it was an impossible hope to foster; that the symbol on the ring might disappear on its fifth spin was ludicrous. Instead, the blade of light and the surrounding wings seemed to stare back at her, more intent on crushing her with their gaze than ever. The world outside the car windows seemed to her a blur. Pity, that; she had hoped to get a passing view of the mundane city of Los Angeles on her way to the institute.

“I always knew your mother to be a lady wise beyond her years.” Diana Wrayburn said from behind the wheel. Leia turned to look at her. “I think it was good of her to wish you be sent to live with the Blackthorns in case of her…. demise.”

Demise. She had learned to accept that word unflinchingly from kind strangers who merely wished to comfort. _Demise_. She repeated the word to herself. The allure of the word escaped her; it was startlingly empty.

* * *

 

The Los Angeles institute stood atop a hill overlooking the sea. Idris only had Lake Lyn, nothing as magnificent as the glittering pelagic that stretched out to the horizon. There was something exciting in the mere prospect of being so close to it.

They were a large family, the Blackthorns. In the chequered entryway, she went around shaking all of their hands, starting with the eldest- Julian. There were so many things whispered about him, about all of them, even back in Idris. There had never been a dearth of visitors in their house; Consul Amidala welcomed all members of the Clave on grounds of work, even if they somehow thought it their business to speak ill of her closest confidants.

_That family ought to be watched over, Padme._

_Yes. No children so young should have to go through what the Blackthorns did._

_You know what I mean._

Luke and Leia had scrambled to take up more space in front of the keyhole in order to hear better of what exactly the talk was about.

_I merely wish Andrew and Eleanor would forgive me for not having done more then._

_You could not have. The Dark War was horribly fresh with its wounds. The Nephilim demanded repentance._

_Yes, I fear this repentance, which was not beyond ruining the lives of many an innocent people, may bring about the tidings of horrible things to come._

_You would have us forgive the half-breeds and traitors?_

_I would warn you never to use such language in front of me, Alisa! They are children. And Mercy is better than revenge._

It was with a cold grace their mother had seen off Alisa Merryweather that day.

But Julian seemed kindly and ordinary standing there, holding his youngest brother Tavvy in his arms, who looked so obviously disinterested in having to be there, she couldn’t help but grin.

Emma Blackthorn, his parabatai, stood immediately beside him; the hilt of the legendary Cortana peeking out from behind her shoulders. Mercy is better than revenge. She cheerfully greeted her hello, though Leia felt tongue tied; she was the best after Jace Herondale. She was the best. Period. Leia mumbled something resembling “hell” and hastily moved onto the next person.

Cristina Rosales was equally warm, as was Mark Blackthorn. Drusilla shook her hand, along with a sly greeting. Christopher, Livia and Tiberius stood next, each stepping up to introduce themselves.

“You should probably settle in before lunch. Then you can get to know everyone better.” Said Diana. “I’ll show you to your room.”

“We can do that.” offered the one called Livia. She was about Leia’s age, maybe slightly taller, with brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves. The dark-haired boy with the headphones around his neck- Tiberius, she remembered- nodded solemnly.

“Fine. Why don’t you show Ms Skywalker around the institute as well?” Diana smiled at her. “Please feel right at home.” She disappeared up the stairs into the left wing, and the others dispersed soon after, save Livia, Tiberius, and the light-haired boy they referred to as Kit. She followed them up the same set of stairs and down the right side.

“Most of us reside in this part of the institute.” Said Tiberius. “Save Emma. Her room is down the left side.”

They reached what would be her room, though she barely registered the layout- only that it had a bed and a dresser- and helped put her bags away. If, looking out the window, she was reminded of the absence of the green fields that rolled out in every direction, visible from her room back in Idris, she chose not to pay heed to the thought. Nor the fact that the room next to hers wasn’t Luke’s. Or the one next to that, or even further down the hall. Luke was not here.

“It is not home?” Livia had come to stand by her side, pulling her out of her reverie.

She turned to meet the gaze of the girl beside her, her verdigris eyes knowing yet curious, and some small part of her seemed to be on the verge of a shameful cry for home-for the gleaming glass towers of Idris, for the orange orchard behind their house, and their endless lessons with Ahsoka; drilling them with the same questions over and over again until finally, exasperated with their endless pleas, she would take them over to Alicante, their restless selves rushing from one shop to another. She missed Ahsoka. She wanted her mother back, and her brother. She wanted her father back- but shook herself of the implausible desire and merely said, “No. but it is...something.” it was better than all the places which were reminders of the people no longer there. “Not quite home, but there is the fact that Emma Carstairs lives right down the opposite wing.” She added with a smile.

“You do seem rather enamoured by our good cousin.” Tiberius spoke from the front of their little coup. “You can have a room in the other wing if you like, you know.”

“Who wouldn’t? She was all anybody would talk about, even back at the academy.” Until they had started talking about the Skywalkers. She had stopped listening by then.

“Did you attend the academy?” asked Kit after some time. He had his hands dug into the pockets of his jeans, walking a little way beside Ty.

“For about two years, yes.”

After some silence, Kit piped in again, “Perhaps it’ll be easier for you to settle in here, then.”

“I hope so.” She laughed. “was it tough for you?” It was known that Kit was the lost Herondale. She had no knowledge beyond that, however.

“A little. But you get used to it.” He said.

Without turning his head, Tiberius said, “Is that why you tried to run away last night?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s not a process.”

Delicate afternoon light streamed in from the windows on one side of the corridors, suffusing the interior with its warmth. Weapons room, library, kitchen, Sanctuary- it’s not like she had never seen an institute before. But it was better than whatever else she would have done locked up alone in her room. The twins- obvious as that was- and Kit, were surprisingly engaging in their conversations, which ranged from iconic detective duos to mundane technology and shadow markets. Leia found herself nodding enthusiastically at parts, asking questions at others and even voicing her own thoughts at times.

“I know Luke Skywalker was one of the youngest to be accepted into the Scholomance.” Said Tiberius. He’d shown previous interest in the subject, and so she was more than happy to comply. Besides, however much she missed him, there was something about the way people said this that filled her with a strange pride.

“Yes” she smiled. It hadn’t been long; mere months since Luke had left for the cold mountains that housed the prized Centurions, but the thought of him being all alone up there made that smile disappear.

_I cannot stay here, Leia. Please do not ask me to._

His tear stained face had been desperate but determined. It was unfair, really, how he didn’t even give her a chance to complain; to shout or protest, to scream out that she didn’t think much of having to stay alone in the Skywalker manor too. It had turned into a shell of a place without their mother. She couldn’t help but feel that Luke would’ve loved it at the LA institute.

“Personally, I don’t get the appeal of the Scholomance. But little brother had it in his head that Idris was no longer home.” They stopped in front of a door down another corridor in the right wing. “So, I had to concede.”

“Little brother?” asked Kit, puzzled. “Aren’t you guys twins?”

“What are you talking about? I’m seven minutes older.” She replied defensively.

And it was when Livia laughed that Leia realised how quiet she had been for some time then. It was a knowing laugh; familiar and pleasant. She looked over to see her smiling; leaning against the side of the door, her dark hair fluttering with the soft breeze coming in from an open window. _Beautiful_ , she thought.

Ty proceeded to open the door and step inside, forcing Leia to look away.

“This” Livia proceeded to seat herself in front of a desk, in one corner of the room, atop which rested the electronic device mundanes called Computer. “Is where the magic happens.”

“I didn’t know you could have this technology at an institute.” She took a seat beside Livia, staring wonderingly at the screen that now displayed a number of small, labelled icons. “Isn’t this against the rules?”

“‘Against the rules’” Kit huffed from his position at the other end of the room, seated in a low beanbag chair. “Welcome to the Blackthorn residence!”

“But what does it do?” she asked

“Everything.” Said Ty, his face solemn.

“I thought I would find you guys here.” They looked around to see Julian standing at the threshold, his hands thrust inside his pockets and a look of exasperation on his face. Vaguely, she remembered the only other time she’d seen him before; standing outside their mother’s office at their house, the night after the attack on Idris. She and Luke had been told not to wander outside, though they’d taken the first opportunity once their father left to scramble out of their beds and into the hallway outside Padme’s office in order to see who the late-night guests were. She’d only been allowed a brief glance at Julian- standing close by Emma, their hands seemingly intertwining a moment before entering in- till Anakin spotted them again, and scooping them up in his arms, he put them back in.

“Dining room. Now.” He said. The four of them filed out of the room, though Livia took a moment to mutter, “Some other time. You may just be here for a while” And flashed her a dazzling smile before hurrying after her brother and Kit.

She was about to follow when Julian called her. “I just wanted to say…” he took a considerable pause, his face in visible consternation over what to say. “This not Alicante, and we do things differently around here. Our ways do not necessarily tend to see eye to eye with those of the Clave’s.” Not a week ago had she heard the Blackthorn motto muttered in singular repulsion, in a closed off, secluded area of the Gard. _Lex malla Lex nulla._

“I’m not asking for much if I presume you comply?” _Secrets._ It was not a question. His voice had taken a steely edge by the end, his gaze level and hard. It was not a choice, so she gave him the correct answer, and nodded. His face softened and she saw again the boy she had encountered in the hallway. “We would still like if you felt comfortable enough to settle, however long you liked. I know…. or I’ve heard…. that things have been tough for you. I greatly admired your mother. She voted against sending Helen and Aline on exile. I remember her wanting for there to be a search for Mark. She was not Consul then; that may have changed things altogether. But it still meant the world to us. I was sorry to hear of her…… I was sorry.”

She swallowed the bile threatening to rise up in her throat, and matched his gaze for hers. There was nothing to say to that, so she nodded and he took that as sign to leave her be.

They were good people. Yes. So, Julian Blackthorn had his reasons and she had hers. She did not know whether she had it within herself to betray them. The ring on her finger caught the dying light of the day, and she looked at it only to realise that she would. She would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia joins Livia, Ty and Kit on a supposedly unassuming spy mission

_Dearest sister, I wished to tell you such a terrible lot, but now that I have finally sat down to write this letter, I can think of nothing to say other than how much I miss you. Nobody gets on my nerves quite the same._

_The others continue to be extremely kind towards me. Javier has been helping me with fencing lessons of late (though I did not fail to mention that you could easily have bested him, or anyone else at the Scholomance for that matter.), and Nimrat and Kate are teaching me all sorts of fighting techniques outside of our formal training sessions. Kate is a little more insistent on the history lessons. She says being a centurion is about more than just being a good fighter. We are supposed to uphold the highest values of the Nephilim, to keep with the tradition that has defined us for a millenia. I do not know if I agree, Leia. Of late I get the strangest feeling that a change is coming, though I am in no position to argue._

_The Blackthorns, I hope, are kind enough to you, as is Los Angeles? You may still be angry at me, but please assure me that you are not alone and isolated there, that you are not taking….all of everything….too hard on yourself. Train and learn and be the shadowhunter you are meant to be, Leia. I know by now you must be weary of all my excuses to be where I am, but if all goes well, we may be able to talk for real soon. The next you choose to write back, write to me of the ocean._

_Luke_

Did the Scholomance allow vacations? She was not sure what he meant by hoping to have a real talk soon, but she would not allow herself the hope of a meeting. Not until she was sure. Her eyes wandered over the words a time or two again before she stowed it away in a drawer of the bedside table. He is happy, she reminded herself, making a mental note to write back to him that very evening. It wasn’t as if she did not want to write back. It was merely the fact that there had been nothing much to write about; her time at the Academy for the months preceding her departure to the Blackthorns had been spent in a kind of daze. She was not about to regale accounts of those excruciatingly slow months to him; nor could she bring herself to write the truth about her present situation. There was not another person she trusted as much as Luke, but he would not understand. He never had.

She let her head fall back against the wall behind the bed and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of blissful ignorance before exchanging it with the weight of whatever it was she was about to next read. Tentatively she picked up the only other letter besides Luke’s that she had received via fire message the night before. It was nothing she was too keen on reading, but the signed initials at the corner made her open it regardless.

* * *

 

Leia was pretty sure Julian was well aware of their presence. She re-adjusted her stance against the bannister, looking down at the party congregated below in the library. Clary Fairchild and Jace Herondale had had their heads bent in discussion with Diana when the door to the library had burst open to admit Emma, Mark, Julian and Christina, covered in ichor. She had met the heads of the New York institute twice before; their solemn faces had consoled her- along with so many others- at their mother’s funeral. Before that, when worse had yet to come to worst, she had glimpsed both of their faces at the council meeting that had decided the fate of Anakin Skywalker.

“Thank You for the invitation.” she murmured to Livia, immediately to her left.

She had been amused, though not altogether surprised, when the twins and Kit had shown up at her door late in the morning. They were up for what Luke would’ve, very unnecessarily, termed espionage. Leia had, of course, obliged.

Livia merely shrugged, eyes intent below, and whispered back, “We figured it was common courtesy.” Next to her, Kit had taken on a surly, stonelike facade since his name- his full name- had been revoked a few moments ago by the party below while Tiberius had his head against the railing. Leia had seen him glance up at Kit a few times since then, a mixture of curiosity and concern in his eyes.

Training her concentration back at the conversation on the library floor, she wondered if any of it was worth a mention. So much had gone down in LA over the past few months; she was sure that while it was surprising to her, much of it had already travelled safely back to Idris.

“You guys have been pretty busy up here.” she whispered again to the girl next to her. Perhaps that was amusing, for it earned her a smirk from Livia, her gaze finally rising to meet hers. “ Busy usually just equates to how much trouble we were in, really.”

“I wouldn’t know.” she said, smiling to herself. The Skywalkers were born with a particular affinity for trouble actually. Only, the Blackthorns, it seemed, were a family that worked together, united against a common threat. Perhaps her family had been like that once; but enough had happened between then and now for her to not remember it as such.

“Worry not. You’ll find there is not a lack of that here in the institute.” Livia’s voice had tightened a bit, and she turned to noticed the appearance of a slight furrow between her eyebrows at this. Her eyes wandered over to Tiberius, and then seeked her family below. It was strange, but loving people meant living with the fear of losing them. She wondered then why the Nephilim were cursed with the ability to love so deeply; to form such powerful bonds. For a people that were meant for sacrifice, it seemed like a terribly cruel idea on the part of their creator.

“We are shadowhunters, Livia Blackthorn. Some of us thrive in this trouble.”

“Or we die in it. Either ways, we should be allowed to want to be _more_ ” Leia looked at her, fully, for the first time then. Her gaze was still below, but she seemed deep in thought. She allowed herself a moment to admire her quiet stance; the strange beauty of a person who had gone oblivious to their surroundings. Livia had not the harshness that she had witnessed in Julian, nor, inversely, the quiet and soft disposition of Tiberius. She seemed always to be treading lightly, but her words carried a strange force behind them.

She was thinking through this, trying to decide whether her people could be more than their mandate, when the sound of a singular word uttered in the conversation still in procession below snapped her out of her reverie.

_Centurions. At the institute. Why?_

“Why?” voiced Julian. It may just have been her own confusion, but Julian sounded almost a bit panicked at the prospect. _That one,_ she thought, _does_ not _like newcomers here at their home._ She put the thought aside for later, desperate for more news.

“They’ll be able to find Malcolm’s body and the black book.” It was the one who was already from among the rank of the Ceturions. Diego Rosales.

There was resistance from Julian’s side, but no excuse. It seemed like the LA institute would be hosting an entire retinue of Centurions, and soon. With some delay she noticed the concerned glances of the other three of her company on her.

“He’s not as high up in their ranks just yet. Luke won’t be with them.” her mind went over to the letter she had finished reading that very morning. We may be able to talk for real soon. She could not allow that thought to enter her mind.

This was all wrong. She had not been informed, not even in that second letter. But of course, this was all too convenient. In fact, now that it was in front of her, she wanted to slap herself for not realising how awfully obvious all of it was.

Seeing that the library was finally empty, Livia, Kit and Tiberius slowly got up, and she followed suit, her mind racing. It was a threat, an insurance, a check. In truth, there was a person whose arrival she was dreading more than Luke’s: Zara Dearborn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As an unforeseen confrontation with her brother looms over Leia, she finds her sleep riddled with strange nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been quite some time since I posted last, but life just got in the way. nevertheless, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sleep was elusive to Leia that night. Sleep was elusive on most nights. She would force her eyes shut, willing herself away to the space between awake and asleep, but whatever little she managed to gain- wisps of sleep held down by sheer stubbornness more than any actual desire to sleep- diffused in the wake of the screams.

Her dreams started out innocently enough; her head rested in her mother’s lap, her hair splayed out behind her on the grass of the orchard behind their manor. Above her the foliage of the trees allowed fractured sunlight to fall onto them, making patterns on the skin of her as arms. Padme hummed some strange song under her breath, her head bent down, eyes closed, and a secret smile playing on her lips.

_I never told the buried gold_

_Upon the hill that lies,_

_I saw the sun, his plunder done,_

_Crouch low to guard his prize…._

Beside them sat Luke, strands of his hair falling into his eyes, his face to the sun. “If it were not for this place, I fear I might have trouble remembering her face.” she heard him say.

She only hummed in agreement, barely conscious of what he said, dozing off to the voice of their mother, her fingers gently brushing down Leia’s hair.

… _Whether to keep the secret_

_Whether to reveal…._

“What did _she_ die for, Leia?” He was muttering gibberish now. She concentrated on the song, the cadence of Padme’s voice. “....and we could’ve been there, you know?” he was saying. “Night had fallen earlier….” She shook her head, trying to find the words of the song again. Padme smiled down at her- warm, familiar - and then reached over to take Luke’s hand in hers, though he looked only confused and jaded.

Her voice was faint now, until it transformed all together. Until her mother screamed a piercing, incessant cry and fell sideways. Blood pounded in her ears, as did the screams. Panicked, she looked to Luke for help, but he merely knelt by her side, sobbing. She moved forward toward them both but found herself instead running through the streets of Idris, a city which was both the one she had grown up in and at the same time, not.

The sky was an acid yellow, streaked with the last embers of a dying sun. The streets twisted away at odd angles, making her run into seemingly random dead ends every few seconds. And they were empty; not another soul in site. It was so eerily quiet she could hear her own harsh breathing like a distant noise. It felt all wrong; the shadows that extended from the gables of the houses, the canal waters that carried the faint, metallic smell of blood, the unnatural white light that made everything stand out while simultaneously making the structures recede into a strange oblivion so that she was never sure what exactly she was looking at.

Among the maze of strange, yet somehow familiar network of houses and shops, of canals and cobblestones, she ran, searching for a way out, toward Gard Hill. It was not too late, she was sure. The council would not have made a decision just yet.

It was hopeless. She felt bone tired and ready to collapse, yet somehow the image of Luke bearing the Soul Sword kept her going. Even on finally having found her way to the Gard, the marked fortress looking down at her, she felt none of the expectant relief. Only a crude determination mixed in with an ever widening dread as she made her way towards the giant doors, feelings which were on the precipice of extinguishing as she found her eyes drooping, her pace slowing, being lulled away by a faraway voice singing a lullaby, and ultimately falling to darkness.

Leia opened her eyes with a start, her heart pounding at a maddening pace, her body drenched in sweat. She slowly sat up, reaching for the water on her bedside table, and drinking it up in a few desperate gulps. Checking the time on the digital clock resting on the bureau opposite her bed revealed it was 3:20 in the am. Even if she could somehow go back to sleep now, she would not dare. Her feet found the cold stone floor and carried her toward the windows. She perched on the small seat by the windowsill and looked down at Los Angeles. At the highway running between the institute and further away, the beach, the soft moonlight giving every visible surface a slight sense of unreality and tried not to think about her dream.

In truth, she realised that she may in fact be alleviated of the agony induced by these dreams if only she would convey their contents to Luke. But not by pen, no. Not when it could so easily be taken into knowledge by another.

The dreams had started a few months ago, and for the first few times, ecstatic on the sight of their mother, Leia had seen the latter half of the dream as a fair enough price to pay for meeting Padme, even in a dream. But soon enough she had realised that this image of their mother was bait, to keep her there long enough only so she could experience the dread of being so close to losing someone she loved. It was a pain like nothing she had ever known.

Even their father, Anakin, who had been only a shadow of his former self in his last days, had taken something vital from her when he went away. The nephilim balked and spit at his name. A Shadowhunter had no business consorting with demons. And what a weak shadowhunter, that one, to be swayed so easily by the dark. A stain upon their race, disgraceful to the last.

And still, that was not how she remembered him. She remembered him gently shaking her awake every morning; _up now, my princess_. She remembered him giving her her first sword fighting lesson. Luke had been training with Obi-Wan, but she found those lessons tedious. They spent copious amounts of time learning the value of patience and whatnot, whereas Anakin had thrown a sword at her feet, and started straight away with the basics. Better too, for it made her realise her strengths and weaknesses in combat, and noticing the same, only then would father move on to lecture her on values and tactics. She remembered him giving her and Luke the family ring when they were seven, promptly asking, “And who are you now, little ones?”

“A Skywalker.” she had said “A shadowhunter.” so seriously that it had made him laugh and gather her up in a hug.

She smiled at the memories, her lips perking up unawares, and then cursed herself for the same. He had made them lose _everything_ and yet she loved him. At any given point she found herself rewriting all of their lives, trying to arrange events so that their world as it was would remain untouched.

With these thoughts swirling in her mind, and her head resting against the window frame, somewhere around the break of dawn she dozed off again.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic is set roughly a year from the deaths of Anankin Skywalker and Padme Amidala. The events of their deaths will be explored further on. I'd say that Luke and Leia had been attending the academy for about two years before the death of their parents. in the succeeding year, Luke went away to the Scholomance, and Leia saw it fit to move to the LA Institute. Granted, she is young for her exchange year, but she felt it was right. The Blackthorns and Skywalkers were close once, so Padme had insisted Leia spent her exchange year there, and later on, at her death bed, wished for Luke and Leia to move to LA immediately.  
> Also, Padme became Consul some time after the Dark War. Julian and Emma outside her office were not visiting her as a member of the Clave, but on her request as an old family acquaintance, and in hope of her help in turning around the orders against Mark and Helen.  
> The au will roughly follow the events of Lord of Shadows, though they will not be the main focus of the story.


End file.
